Son of a Sinner

by Lynn Shurr

  By the time they finished, Mati had puddled next to the training pad, torn up one silver throw pillow and dragged Stacy’s bra into his dog bed for leisurely gnawing. Neither of them cared.

  ****

  The Billodeauxs came for a weekend in the city and crammed their youngest five children into their apartment, once the slick bachelor pad of their formerly womanizing father. Lorena, now seventeen, always claimed the pale blue Madame Pompadour bedroom with is crystal chandelier over the bed, but she didn’t mind sharing the space with tiny seven-year-old Edie. The three boys fit themselves into the old nursery, once Joe’s Chinese Bordello room, but not any more. No one suggested the youngest two sleep with Mom and Dad in the remodeled bedroom where both had been born.

  They’d taken the boat up river to the Audubon Zoo on Saturday where the teenagers feigned boredom but still laughed at the seal act. Now, the kids gathered in front of the big flat screen to watch their brothers play football in Dallas. Just before kickoff, the doorbell rang and Xochi and Stacy entered.

  Stacy held up the puppy. “Newest family member. This is Mati. Dean bought him for me.”

  Joe and Nell exchanged glances. Lorena’s eyes grew a little misty. Edie squealed and held out her arms. “He’s like Titi only smaller and younger.”

  “Why don’t you hold him? He loves to sit in your lap.” Xo took the dog from Stacy and passed him to the littlest Billodeaux as she bumped the biggest of her siblings off the long and now very battered leather couch to a place on the floor. Daddy Joe, a beer in hand, reigned supreme in his recliner.

  “I’ll help Mama Nell with the snacks.” Stacy followed her aunt into the kitchen where the popcorn pinged inside the maker and a vegetable tray with a yogurt dip already sat on the counter. As a concession to the men, a chili-cheese concoction to go with the corn chips heated in the microwave. With the chatter of the children, the yip of the puppy, and smells of popcorn and chili filling the air, they could be at the ranch, a place where she’d never quite fit in, maybe her own fault because she didn’t want to.

  Hard to believe sometimes that the triplets had been born from her own mother’s eggs and that she shared blood through her aunt with the youngest, Edie and T-Rex. Though both large and small in size, all of the five were Billodeauxs through and through with their dark hair, Cajun eyes, and olive complexions. Xochi fit in well with her light brown skin and long, black curls. Aunt Nell hugged Stacy around the waist. At five-ten compared to Nell’s barely over five feet tall, a shoulder squeeze would have been impossible without bending over.

  “So good to see some of my grown up girls. Dean bought you a puppy to replace Titi. I’ve raised a considerate young man.”

  “Yes, he is that.” Both in and out of bed. Stacy turned quickly to staunch a blush. Her pale skin always betrayed her. She grabbed the veggie tray. “I’ll carry this out for you.”

  Strange how tiny Aunt Nell could block an exit when she wanted. “How are you and Dean getting along?”

  “Great. We don’t argue very much any more.”

  “You are proceeding slowly with this relationship, right?” Oh, how those warm, brown eyes could search a person’s soul.

  “Absolutely.” If only jumping into bed and having sex without condoms were considered moving slowly. The burn reached Stacy’s cheeks. “I’d better get this tray on the table. The guys won’t eat anything green once the chili dip arrives.”

  Nell allowed her to go without further probing, but when she followed carrying a huge bowl of popcorn, her aunt raised her eyebrows at her uncle. He nodded and took a sip of beer. They either believed her or positively knew she was lying, Stacy couldn’t tell which. Dean appeared on the big screen in hi-def so clear she wanted to reach out and touch his cheek. He did the call for the coin toss and lost. Dallas elected to receive. All the chatter in the room ceased as Tom kicked off placing the ball neatly at the ten-yard line and allowing for a bounce to the eight. Despite having to execute a long return, Dallas eventually scored a touchdown as they poked holes in the Sinner’s defense.

  Dean returned to the field and on his second throw got a man into the end zone. He set a pattern for the game with no interceptions and only one sack that Stacy felt viscerally as he went down hard. For years, she’d been careful not to exhibit too much emotion when Dean took a hit. Now, the thought of him being injured made her blanch and squash the cherry tomato she’d poised over the yogurt dip. She held her breath until he got up again and walked it off. More meaningful glances passed between her aunt and uncle.

  “It’s part of the game,” Uncle Joe remarked mildly.

  The veteran announcers, Al Harney and Hank Wilkes, waxed eloquent with analogies. “Billodeaux is on fire this afternoon, shooting one pass after another like flaming arrows down the field.”

  “It’s The Hunger Games out there, and Dallas isn’t going to survive,” Hank remarked in an attempt to be current.

  “The only people with short careers in football are the players. Those geezers have been around since my rookie year and before that. Just look at Coach Buck still pacing the sidelines like the Sinners were down three touchdowns instead of three ahead. I tell you me, one day the old man is going burst a blood vessel right there on the field. One of the good things about retirement is not hearing his gravelly voice on Monday mornings telling me all I did wrong. I guess he won’t have much say to Dean after this game.” Pride crept into Joe Billodeaux’s voice.

  Final score 42-17, Sinners.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hotter than hot the sports pages said about Dean Billodeaux, and they weren’t talking about his sexual allure though he had that also. The Sinners quarterback polished off two more teams, one at a home game and one away racking up high scores as if he simply couldn’t stop himself. The paparazzi, however, lurked in the coffee shop and at a café near Stacy’s apartment that offered outdoor tables. One posed as homeless person and took up a spot by the dumpster, a good disguise until the camera popped out and Stacy requested the police to move him out of the private cul-de-sac.

  Dean took care about his visits, using his hoodie or a ball cap along with sunglasses when he crossed Canal Street and slouched low among the tourists and city dwellers to reach Stacy’s place. When the false indigent jumped up with the camera as Dean inserted his key in the lock, he waved the man away. “Visiting my sister. Give me a break.” Evidently a picture of him standing before a door lacked punch and never appeared in the scandal sheets.

  Sometimes, Stacy came to him in unlikely disguises far different from her usual stylish, professional identity. He especially liked the coveralls, painter’s cap, and grungy sneakers, all very easy to take off especially when she wore nothing beneath the clothing. The hooker in the patent leather mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, and red wig fooled even Arturo the doorman who’d seen some amazing sights in his day. Once so icy and aloof, Stacy’s ingenuity amazed Dean. He hoped the fun would continue if—when they took their relationship to the next level. As for Tom and Xochi, they seemed to have developed very full social schedules giving the couple the space they needed.

  Today, Stacy met him in the parking garage where the Mustang waited to take them to the ranch. She’d dressed like an old time movie star with her hair bundled in a silk scarf and her pouty lips painted red. Large and expensive sunglasses covered her blue eyes. Her full-skirted dress sported black polka dots all over its white surface. She dangled a small funeral wreath around one wrist like a bracelet and held Mati’s leash with that hand while towing a stylish black leather overnight bag with the other. As she moved briskly along, people took her picture hoping to learn later that they’d spotted an eccentric celebrity. She eased into the convertible with its top down on a perfect October day, and they roared off to Chapelle on the Friday of Dean’s bye week. Slowing only for the small town speed traps and otherwise speeding, they made excellent time with the wind blowing Stacy’s scarf back and Mati sitting happily in her lap.

  Always thrilled to have
one of her ninos return home, Corazon buzzed them in through the gates of Lorena Ranch. The younger children hadn’t gotten home from school yet or they would have been swarmed as soon as they drove up before the mansion, the epitome of Southern dreams with its white columns, verandahs and setting of live oaks, hardly a ranch house by any definition. Stacy put off going inside and instead went directly to the small mounds beneath a large oak near the front of the house. Two little headstones reading Titi and Macho marked the graves of the beloved pets. She placed her wreath between them and touched Dean’s arm.

  “Did you arrange for the markers?”

  “I called and asked Dad to see to it. He grew up on a farm and isn’t as sentimental about animals as the rest of us.”

  Stacy raised her eyebrows. “No? I thought when Lazy Boy died he might put up a bronze statue in front of the barn.”

  “He really identified with that old stud horse, but in the end buried him with a backhoe under his favorite tree in the pasture—horse heaven.”

  “Seems strange not to have those two dogs barking and running out to greet us.” When Mati sniffed Macho’s marker and raised a wobbly puppy leg to pee, Stacy jerked him back with a strict, “No.”

  “Yeah, it’s a little too quiet,” Dean said.

  But not for long. Corazon’s voice sounded from the impressive front doorway with its beveled sidelights. “What, you not coming in? I bake peanut butter cookies for you, still warm. Better get some before the others come home.”

  They left the little graves and followed Corazon’s wide rump through the length of the house to the kitchen where much of the Billodeaux family life took place. The scent of brown sugar and roasted peanuts filled the room. Automatically, Dean lifted a gallon jug of milk from the fridge and poured a glass. Stacy helped herself from the always-ready pot of coffee.

  “Sit, sit. You are early and everyone is gone. Your mama is still at the clinic seeing patients, and Mr. Joe and my husband gone to get a load of hay for the horses.” Corazon filled her own red mug with coffee and carried a plate of cookies to the table.

  Dean bit into one of Corazon’s specialties and closed his eyes. “Oh, so much better than scones.”

  “They have oatmeal and extra peanuts in them to make your mama happy. Always must be so healthy, the snacks. But, tonight, I do not cook. We all go to see your brother and my Junior play football. Your father says hotdogs, hamburgers, and nachos for everyone. We don’t got to be healthy eating all the time.” Corazon helped herself to a second cookie.

  “Yeah, Dad still can’t get over Mack wanting to be a wide receiver instead of a quarterback and have Connor Riley give him pointers, but Uncle Connor is pretty pleased since his oldest boy wants to play golf.”

  “Stevie is glad her son doesn’t have any interest in football. No head injuries to worry about in golf unless you get hit by a ball,” Stacy added while primly dipping a single cookie into her coffee and eating it in tiny bites. Mati got up on his hind legs to beg, a trick he hadn’t been taught. She rewarded him with a doggie treat from her little red purse. “No junk food for you either. He’s very clever and trained like a whiz to go outside.”

  If the younger kids had been around, numerous jokes about whizzing would have passed among the boys, but Corazon frowned, her mind obviously elsewhere. “Yes, I worry all the time about Junior getting hurt.”

  Dean patted her shoulder. “Don’t. He has the perfect body for a lineman and great training from the Rev and my dad.” By which he meant that the chubby boy Corazon had overfed grew to have his father’s height and his mother’s breadth. Not particularly aggressive, Junior’s training began when the Ste. Jeanne Parochial students teased him about his weight and he returned home crying. Junior Polk cried no more. He simply mowed down the opposition.

  “Say, has Dad covered the pool?” Dean reached for his third helping.

  “No, not yet, but the water, she will be cold.”

  “I think we can handle it. You want to go for a swim, Stace? You did bring a suit.”

  “You told me to, so yes, I did. It’s in my overnight bag.”

  “Great. Get changed. Meet me at the pool house.” Dean snatched a few more cookies as Stacy went for her bag. He consulted a pegboard full of keys and palmed one before going outside after giving Corazon a kiss on her broad cheek. “You are the best,” he assured her. So happy with that, the housekeeper did not question which key he’d taken. “Watch the pup for us, will you? He still has accidents no matter what Stacy says. Keep him in the kitchen.”

  He joined Stacy shortly by the pool. It seemed to be retro day as she wore a bikini bearing red polka dots with perky ties on the side and a full bra top that gave her lots of lift but could have been smaller both top and bottom in his opinion. Stacy dipped a toe in the water.

  “Oh, Dean, it’s freezing! You aren’t going to dump me in there, are you?”

  “Fond memories. That’s as close as we got to touching during our teen years. But no, that water would shrivel my nuts. How about some sun bathing under the palms? I’ve got a blanket.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Dean opened the gate to the sandy swath Adam Malala donated to Camp Love Letter after saying everyone needed a beach. They walked the smooth and winding path among the palms and still blooming red and yellow hibiscus until Stacy pointed out the crossed trees where she’d once spied on Adam and his now wife making love.

  “I wanted to know what adults did and made poor Teddy come with me to watch.”

  “Yeah, a big punishment for that. Adam thought Tom and I were the ones hiding in the bushes and flashed you good.”

  Stacy colored clear down her heck and across the tops of her breasts. “He was so big and tattooed all over below the knees, and I do mean everywhere. It’s a wonder I wasn’t scarred for life after seeing that.”

  “Adam proposed to his wife under those trees. Seems like a lucky spot to me.”

  “A lucky spot or a spot to get lucky? Dean, you know this place has cameras all over, one reason that between the surveillance, you, Tom and Uncle Joe, all four of us older girls went to college as virgins.”

  Dean smiled in a way that reflected his dad at his sexiest if only he could have seen himself. “I got the key to the security building and shut off the screens for this area. Come on. You can compare me to Adam.”

  He took Stacy’s hand and led her through a break in the shrubbery to an open place by the crossed palms. Spreading the blanket, he bore her down with him on the bed of sand and released her perfect white and pink-tipped breasts from the bra top. She pushed back on his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to suckle them.

  “Just a minute. Did you do this here with your high school and college girlfriends?”

  “Hell, no! Usually kids are crawling all over the place and back then, Knox Polk would have noticed a missing key or a blanked screen within minutes. I just seized an opportunity like I do on the football field. It’s all about the timing.”

  “You did break the speed limit getting here,” she agreed.

  Dean untied the little bows that held the bottom of the swimsuit and opened her to him like a pretty package. He’d worn a Speedo because he had the bod for it, but the skimpy thing showed his desire a bit too obviously. Stacy rolled it down and gave him a few firm strokes. He returned the favor by doing the same between her legs. She closed her eyes to enjoy but still said, “So this is virgin ground for you and me.”

  “I swear it is.”

  “Good.” She relaxed as he massaged her breasts and laved her mouth with his tongue. “Peanut butter cookies, not scones,” she murmured when he withdrew and took that tongue down the length of her body and used it to test her readiness instead of his finger in that small swatch of light hair. “Better than both,” she sighed and raised him up to shade her body and welcome him inside.

  Stacy clasped her long legs around his narrow waist and rode with the rhythm he set until she wanted more and faster and let him know with her nails digging
into his shoulders and her heels kicking his backside. She tugged on that forehead curl of his, drawing him down into a kiss as she came hard, smothering a cry that might attract attention. He finished with his own big release moments later. As they lay side by side staring up at the palm fronds, Dean made his confession.

  “I’ve wanted to do that here with you since I was eighteen.”

  “What!” Completely shaken from her après sex lethargy, Stacy leaned her head on one hand and peered down on Dean just lying there with arms linked behind his neck.

  “Sure, I came home from college the summer I was eighteen, and you’d gone from being all legs and a pretty girl face to having curves in all the right places. Any man would want you, but it wasn’t right. You were only fifteen. I couldn’t let my parents down by taking advantage of you, so I took off for Haiti after I made sure that shit, Kent Gonsoulin, wouldn’t get to you either.”

  “You ruined my teenage life on purpose because you were jealous of Kent?”

  Dean smirked as only he could when messing with Stacy. “No, I saved your teenage life. Kent might have ruffied you because otherwise you would have fought back hard. I know that. Prince knows that now. He’s still wearing the boot, and he got rid of his weave until his scalp heals, shaved his head bald. He’s growing a mustache and goatee to make up for it.”

  Stacy reached over and tweaked his nipple hard. “That’s for interfering with my life.”

  “You should be glad I did. I only wish I’d been able to stop Dr. Rivera from seducing you. I thought you were still too young when you arrived at LSU. There I was a senior football star with a cheerleader girlfriend. What would the team and the family say if I dumped Debbie for my cousin? It still wasn’t right. I tried to get my parents to report Rivera, but…”

  Stacy pinched his other nipple no more gently. “You told them about my sex life! I’m surprised they didn’t call a team meeting to discuss it.”

  “Unfortunately, no. They said you were at an age when you had to make your own decisions. That hurts by the way.” Dean removed her hands from his chest.